From Zero to Thirteen
by MusicCrest
Summary: I am supposed to retrieve the eyes of the human I favor. Let's see if I can do that in twenty four hours. 12-years-old children would be my target. And, oh, to make it fun, let's see if I can play with them, get them to kill their family members.
1. Prologue

Finally, I managed to make a collaboration with ~Sketchymudkipz! This is my first fic project ever, and I've been a fan of Hetalia just recently so please, ignore the errors. Sketchymudkipz is a big part of this too, so please do a favor for her.

And also, Sketchy's friend, ~SunnyGreen, helped her with writing things, she said. So some credits also go to him/her.

Updates would be every four chapters, so mind the time, please, everybody~!

Anyway, enjoy!

**Author(s):** Ideas mostly by **~Sketchymudkipz**, writings mostly by me, **~MusicCrest**, and a little bit editing from **~SunnyGreen**.  
**Genre:** There is a lot, but mostly **Horror/Angst**. Some **Hurt/Comfort** and **Family** later on.  
**Warning:** Blood, children abuse, a demon in the shape of a woman randomly appeared continuously in the story. And also, **Rated T**.  
**Summary:** A demon refused to retrieve human eyes as a part of being a demon, but he got damned because of it. You gotta remember him, he has an important role later. The story is going to be how his sister tried not to be like him. So she started on planning to get the eyes of people and the story goes on.

* * *

**~Prologue~**

"I'm not one of you guys anymore!"

A young man—or actually, demon—yelled out loud, but never to be deafening. His eyes showed anger, but never to be spiteful. He shoved off his fears to the leader. He wasn't one of them, he wasn't born to be a sinned. The leader hollered.

"You're weak. That's why you shall _not_ be one of us!" The sound was to be compared with the collaboration of thunders and torpedoes, or actually, much worse. No doubt it was one of the most horrible tone ever existed. The demon winced. _No_, he thought. _I'm not a sinner! I'm not a bloodthirsty killer; I'm not a demon anymore!_

Beside him was a woman, much taller and older than him. She was as scared as him. He wished this to end. He hated this so much. _Stop hurting us, nor _them_. Humans did no wrong, why shall we murder them?_

"We don't want you no more!" The leader continued. "You don't belong here. From now on you'll be living on the human world!"

And with that, the leader shot out his hand and lightning raced through it, hungry for the young man. The woman's eyes widened as her brother wailed in pain. There was a loud explosion, and before her very eyes, he was gone. She took a step backwards.

"See?" the leader thundered. "If you don't kill anyone from the human world and get their eyes for me, I will do that to you to. Only worse, because I give you a second chance."

The woman gulped.

"Twenty four hours in the human world to gather _at least_ twelve pairs of eyes. But remember, your punishment is that you _can't_ touch their blood, or you'll turn into a white dove with broken wings, only to be hunt down by those _humans_, as soon as you did."

The woman nodded.

"You are dismissed."

* * *

_~Prey Caught: 0/12_

_~Eyes Taken: 0/12 pair_

_

* * *

_

**~TBC~**

That was short, but that is only the prologue. Duh. Anyway, next chapters would be estimated at least one and a half thousand of words. So it'll be a bit interesting... perhaps?

If you think this is amusing, review please! Thank you!


	2. Clock Strikes One

**~Clock Strikes One~**

"NO!"

A devilish painful shriek came into being, but refused to reveal its owner. Everyone, every normal person would shudder upon the invasion of the sound into their ears. It sounded like the combination of a girl screaming as a car came to take her life away, plus the screeching of the rubber tires as it pleaded to itself to stop. The voice did not cease.

"Why am I left alone? Why won't anyone wait for me?"

It was clearly stated that all the sound and stuff were produced by a rather raged yet saddened being.

"I am forbidden to dirty my hands with the blood of human beings! And to think I'm the ONLY ONE! How am I supposed to be a 'complete' kind of ourselves? I have only twenty-four hours left, or—or the leader would banish me like how he did to my brother!"

All the sudden, the yelling started to fade away, as if thinking of something. Like how a student would shout their triumphant answer after a while of thinking, the voice returned. This time, the fiery roar turned into a cold, frostbiting, quiet yet thundery whisper.

"_Well then_," It hissed coldly. "_Shall I go to their world and make children do the murdering for me instead!_"

* * *

The clock had just passed its longer hand through number 12 and rested its shorter hand on number 1. It ticks in a lullingly calm sound, making a soft humming lullaby for the owner of the room. Breathing slowly at the corner of the room, eaten away by his dream, a white-haired boy occupied the space provided by the bed. It was the room of Gilbert Beillschmidt.

As it precisely reached 1 o'clock in the night, the clock, a smooth black marble without polish, cracked open and cold air started to emerge from it. The wind blew, although the window was closed tightly. In the flurry of the wind, a woman covered in white cloak stood menacingly.

She walked upon Gilbert, who was deep inside his inner self, and smiled. She concealed one of her treacherous hands, putting the fingers on her lips.

_He's the first child to be lured._

She touched the German boy with her delicate fingers, but feeling too much of a secureness, he didn't bother to wake up. She smiled. She took him by the hand.

This time, he woke up with a jolt. Gilbert immediately pulled his hand back, but the woman's grip was just like the grasp of a demon. His eyes widened.

"W-who the hell are you?" He stammered. A bit.

Her smile did not leave her face, but it did move a little. Gilbert shuddered. Even before she could say anything, he knew the lips were trying to convey a story to him. Does it have anything to do with him? He didn't know. The woman let out her voice already.

"Me? It's not any of your business, dear child."

"Don't call me child!" He struggled. "I'm twelve! And in an awesome three days I will turn thirteen—I'm a teen!"

She wouldn't release her grip. It's getting painful and tighter and it hurt Gilbert, but the woman didn't notice. Or maybe she noticed, but took no attention. She stared at Gilbert intently.

"But honey, twelve is still considered to be a kid," her voice sounded like the blizzard taking no mercy in the avalanche, "And... you won't be having your 'awesome three days' to turn into thirteen. Too much hours to spend."

Gilbert raised one of his eyebrows. He didn't understand anything she was saying. He prepared to struggle again, but he felt some kind of tingling feeling on his eyes. It became stronger an stronger, and it felt hot. He felt as if his eyes were burning. He flinched.

"M-my eyes," he rubbed them. "W-what happened?"

The woman gave no answer, but she continued to stare at Gilbert.

Gilbert felt it gradually increase its heat—as if flame was actually put inside his eyeballs. He put his hand over his eyes. Upon this he felt some kind of liquid oozing from his eye sockets. It wouldn't stop flowing—he thought it was tears, maybe just couldn't stand the heat, thus escaped.

But he was wrong.

It reached his mouth.

It wasn't salty.

It was metallic.

_He's the first one on my list._

"B-blood?" He yelped, shocked. "What the fuck is happening here?"

"Dear, you have been on my list. And you came out first. You've been marked."

"Get away, bitch!" he barked at the woman, but blood still wouldn't stop flowing. Both of his hands were red now, one severed from the grip of the woman, one stained with the blood from his eyes. But he wouldn't give up easily.

He stole a glance at the alarm clock. It showed one forty-five, surprisingly, although it was cracked open. Awesome. He grabbed the broken shard, and with a hateful manner, he threw it hard onto the woman's face.

Which, caused her to flinch and release him.

The broken clock pierced her forehead, but no blood can be seen. Gilbert shivered at this sight, and what scared him was that it had little effect on her. He backed off, aiming for the door, but the knob was glowing red-hot. He dare not to touch it, so he turned around.

He can see that now, not only the door knob, everything in his room was put on fire.

His breath hitched, but he wouldn't scream anyone's name for help. He recalled the story Old Man Fritz told him, about a boy who wouldn't scream for help when a fox hid inside his shirt. Such bravery that boy possessed that Gilbert also wanted to be just as brave. He held his breath and shook away his fears.

The woman came closer to him. She wiped the blood off Gilbert's face using a handkerchief. Not a single drop seeped into her ghost-white skin. When more blood started to emerge, she pulled her hand back.

_He would be the first child I favor the most._

"Why do you have to take me now?" Gilbert coughed from the smoke the flame mass-produced. Ashes started to sore his eyes more. He held his pain, breath, everything that can stop him to get away. "Grandfather Fritz is sick now—he needs someone to take care of him! And Ludwig still needs an awesome big brother to watch over him!"

"Is that," the woman knelt and matched her eye level with Gilbert's, him sitting limply on the floor, "Just an excuse so you can still be alive? Taking care of your family?"

"Of course not!" Gilbert growled. He felt anger exploded inside his mind. "Gramps is not strong enough to watch Ludwig's back although he can take care of himself most of the time, but still, and Ludwig is not capable of helping Gramps out so—"

"No, it's not like I'm not giving any choices," she clicked her tongue. "In fact, I got the idea from the mention of your family. Let's make this fun."

Gilbert stilled.

_He would also be the one I hate the most._

"You actually have two."

"Name it."

"Your family's blood, or yours." She lifted Gilbert's chin. He shoved off her face, clearly silenced from the choices he had to make. He couldn't possibly murder his own little brother; he's everything to him since their parent's death. And his grandfather. No way he would kill him. He's like one of the best person in his life. He hung his head down.

_He will be first one to suffer all of this. _

"What the hell is happening, lady." Gilbert inquired, but not questioned.

"Come." She ignored whatever was spoken by him. She was up to her legs. Holding up a hand towards Gilbert, she smiled again. "You have twelve hours to make your decision."

Not having the answer nor choices he would like to have, he shot out a hand and linked it with the hands belonged to the woman. Gilbert itched to ask where would they go out, but he opted to stay silent. As if reading his mind, the woman patted his head, and chanted something Gilbert did not understand at all. In the matter of seconds, they were teleported to somewhere else.

The place was a very huge cave, but it was pitch black.

Gilbert didn't bother to complain. He let out a sigh of frustration, anger, fear—all blended into a smoothie of emotions. Just then he realized something peculiar.

The clock, stating 01:59, was still alive and attached to her forehead.

A minute later, he saw leaves flying around her, dust joining in, being sucked in the wind she produced.

She disappeared into thin air.

He sighed as the woman finally escaped from his sight. But he heard a faint whispering, so faint that he was almost sure that it was only his feelings.

_You're also the one to be dead._

_You're the First Child._

As the other clocks out there pointed at two o'clock, Gilbert felt nothing anymore, closed his bloodied eyes, and blacked out.

* * *

_~Prey Caught: 1/12_

_~Eyes Taken: 0/12 pair

* * *

  
_

**~TBC**_  
_


	3. Clock Strikes Two

**~Clock Strikes Two~**

"Twelve children, one caught. And oh, I still have eleven hours to do _part one_."

An hour in the human world had passed. The voice had returned to its own world, sounding a little bit more relaxed. If one listened to that voice, it would sound like a normal person talking, though they could also feel the shrilly chill the voice emitted.

"I feel a little lonely now. Should I make the second child go with me?"

The voice was talking to itself, as if there were two separate entities exchanged their ideas. The tone of the voice didn't support that, though. Whenever it sounded, it always had the chill that would sneak through into one's spine.

"Hm, maybe. She can help me kidnap other children."

What felt was like hours of thinking did not affect the time on the human world at all. It was silent for a while, and even the wind was too afraid of the voice to carry its caress tune. The voice ceased to exist, planning to return to the human world.

"_Yes,_" It suddenly whispered spitefully. "_I shall get a companion for myself, an underling that shall obey my every command!"

* * *

_

"Uhm, I'm hungry."

A girl stepped into the kitchen of her house, yawning. She scratched her head as she browsed for the light switch. It was either very late in the night, or way too early in the morning. The wind was howling a harmony, the crickets were playing the orchestra, and the footsteps were providing a beat. Elizaveta Hérdéváry found the light switch at last, moving on and grasping for the fridge.

Hesitating a little, she opened the fridge. She was woken up unexpectedly, and unable to find something to do, she decided to eat something. She felt a little bad though, for being such a thief and stealing her own food. She looked at the clock.

Five seconds...

And it was two o'clock.

She took a black forest cake, but at the slight touch of it, she felt the wind being added to the symphony. She widened her eyes at the silent melody it played.

"Father?"

She felt guilt at that moment, and decided not to take the little piece of pastry and closed the fridge. She got a little nervous. She looked around. Nobody in sight.

"I guess it's just me..." Elizaveta slumped on a chair. She prepared to go back to her room, but she couldn't really sleep and she _did_ want at least something from the fridge...

She looked at the fridge again. "I should grab a drink, at least." She sighed and raised her shoulders. She opened the door again, and the wind returned. _Ah_, this train of thought came to cross upon her. _So it was the wind of the fridge after all._

She enjoyed the icy caress touch on her face, and she grabbed a can of coke. It looked very tempting, the soft drink; it's refreshing, tasty, and to think she spent a whole night in a room with AC—she must have been dehydrated. She cancelled her thought of taking the black forest cake, and gulped the coke instead.

After a that, she stayed there for a little while. But then, somehow, she felt a tingling little feeling inside her, and she felt the temperature of the room had just dropped. She shivered a little. And there was a blow of wind again. She glanced at the clock in the kitchen to check the time.

It was broken.

It was the one emitting the wind that chilled Elizaveta.

"Wh-what's this?" She stuttered, terrified. She wrapped the blanket she happened to bring alongside her and covered herself with it. "Father? Are you there?"

Still no answer.

She shook her head. _I'm not afraid_, the thought flashed in her mind. _I can take down even boys. I'm not a sissy little girl_.

She eyed the room, and the closest thing beside her was a black, shiny frying pan. She smiled, recalling how she pawned a lot of her friends' ass using this certain frying pan. It was her last birthday present, which was her 12th. Yes, not only for cooking, this frying pan had been her trademark weapon. She clutched it without hesitation.

Soon the wind gathered and compressed together, creating what she thought a white cloth. But more were collected around it and it created a shape Elizaveta was able to identify.

It was a woman. A woman in a white cloak, face half-covered with a hood.

Eliza gulped. The woman was astonishing, having a beautiful face, ghost-white skin, slender, and tall. For a second, she envied her, except only her eyes and smile—Elizaveta hated that kind of smile. Her awareness returned and hugged her; she stepped backwards and tightened her grip to the frying pan.

"Who are you?" She dared herself to ask.

The woman's smile became more sickening to her.

_She will be treated as my second._

The woman didn't answer.

The woman stepped towards Elizaveta, who stepped back a further more. The woman did not stop, so did Eliza. But her back touched the flat wall, halting her track. She glared in a fiery way at the woman. The woman glared back coldly, but intensely.

The heat in her eyes became more intense. She felt bewildered and angered, but the heat was getting weird and started to burn. She felt her eyes began to hurt so much, and she held a hand upon her eyes. Something warm came out oozing from her eyes.

"Wh-what's happening? My eyes hurt..." She whimpered. She looked at the liquid substance she was holding.

It's red.

"What?" She blared up. She glared with the woman with her red eyes. "What's happening here, lady?"

"You've been marked."

"What mark? Explain clearly!" The blood dripped onto the frying pan, and in one minute, a splotch of red substance can be seen on it. The woman gave a hand to her, but she smacked it with the frying pan. The woman winced.

"Fuck off!"

The woman glared and stabbed Eliza's eyes with hers, but then she stroked Eliza's silky brown hair, and even at night she always wore her favorite flower on her head. The flower slipped onto the woman's hand. It turned into maroon red, the original color being yellowish green. Elizaveta's eyes widened, surprised at the change of the color. The woman took her hand by force.

"Don't swear, sweetie."

"Don't treat me like a brat! I'm twelve and I don't want some random person showing up and telling me what to do!" She was about to take back her hand, but the grip was killing her. She swallowed up her fears.

The woman shoved off what she had just said. "Come with me. Be my companion."

_She will feel like a Cinderella._

"For what reason are you taking me away?" She protested. She tried to hit her with her frying pan, but the woman easily blocked it. "I'm the only family member my father have! He would be completely heartbroken if I go away!"

"And for that reason you want to stay alive?" the woman raised her shoulder.

"Not only that, bitch." the pain started to drain her consciousness. "My father's life is mine. My world is his. We won't be separated. Not letting that happen. Ever."

_Cinderella destined to kill her beloved father._

"But it will." The woman contradicted her. "Don't change your destiny, child."

"What destiny?"

"I want you to murder," the woman's voice was calm but never to be soothing, and Elizaveta winced at the word 'murder', "Your beloved father."

"Again, WHAT? No way." She breathed out. The woman shrugged. "What is this all about, actually?"

"Just come with me. Help me kidnap other children." the woman glared, her voice seemed to be fiercer and her face was getting impatient. Eliza gulped, started to get frightened by her. She wiped the blood off her face.

"What if I don't want to?"

"I told you, don't change your destiny."

Elizaveta sighed, as she ran out of thoughts. She finally gave herself up to the woman, who smiled. She chanted words Eliza couldn't understand, and they were suddenly covered by the wind as light objects traveled through it. They were teleported, and after a while, the wind said goodbye to both of them going to some place better.

It was a pitch black cave.

And someone familiar was lying on one side of the walls.

"Gilbert!" Elizaveta ran to him, eyes filled with extreme worry. "You too? What happened to you? Did she do anything to hurt you?"

No answer.

"Are you... okay, Gilbert...?"

"He is, child," the woman answered instead. "He's having a lovely slumber for sometime, he had been bleeding his eyes too much already." Hearing this, Eliza held her hand onto her eyes again, begging the blood to stop flowing. The woman came closer to both of the kids.

"You're not staying. You're going with me."

The woman dragged Eliza away from Gilbert. She chanted the words, that Elizaveta believed to be the same as the earlier one, and dust started to dance along with the wind.

At that time, Eilza had just realized something, something she failed to notice out of utter shock.

On the woman's forehead, a digital clock was attached, piercing the skin. No blood appeared on sight. Elizaveta shuddered.

At exactly 03.00, they disappeared into thin air.

* * *

_~Prey Caught: 2/1  
_

_~Eyes Taken: 0/12 pair

* * *

  
_

**~TBC~**_  
_


	4. Clock Strikes Three

**~Clock Strikes Three~**

"Where are we going, miss?"

An additional voice assisted the painstakingly sharp voice. They contrasted each other, one being so evil and one being so... innocent. Surprisingly, instead of canceling each other out, the voices seemed to get along... not so well, though. Perhaps opposites _do_ work out together.

Although Elizaveta never wished to.

"You'll see."

The answer was so unsatisfying, and Eliza felt like banging the woman's head with her trustworthy frying pan, but then again, what could she do? The woman was some supernatural being, Eliza knew for sure. But how, how could anyone escape from her grasp?

"Who are we going to visit, miss?"

Elizaveta was just trying to be nice. She held back her anger, frustration, spite, all behind her gritted teeth. She clenched one her fists and held that hand with the other, trying not to make any wrong moves. She glared at the woman, who didn't bother to look at her. She sighed, loud, and hearing this the woman finally impaled Eliza's eyes with hers.

"I believe he's one of your friend, dear." The woman hissed. "And to give you a clue; he would probably be awake this late, meddling with his little games."

One name flashed onto Elizaveta's mind. She didn't want to believe it. No, how would she kidnap her own friend? But on the second thought, she smiled on how the person would most probably escape the woman with his high intelligence. The kid still had hope.

"You see, lady," She finally got the guts to contradict the woman. "He's a smart ass. He would outwit you and he would never got into your hands."

_But she was wrong.

* * *

_

"Beep."

The continuous beeping sound seemed so endless, disabling itself to stop. Hiding under a blanket in the middle of the bed, inside the room, a boy rapidly pressed the buttons on his game console, showing some blue aura-like light. Honda Kiku, an amnesiac otaku, was always stuck with his electronic games every night.

"And now the boss," Kiku finally commented. He looked at the watch glued on his wrist. Five to three. "Let's see if I can beat it within five minutes."

It wasn't a challenge for him. Beating a game in one hour for him was always like a sand flying in the wind, irritating the eyes but can be easily overcame. This one was not a sweat. It was flowing in his blood.

Kiku wasn't obstinate. He _does_ interact with the other people in daytime, only nighttime he would hang out with the beeping device. He never actually wore glasses, and his grades were amazingly, and unexpectedly, high. Maybe the game actually sharpened his logic skills, or maybe it's just him. He's also unexpectedly polite, not like those heavy drunken gamers. Maybe his big brother taught him manners at all cost. Maybe because he had an array of siblings, so he didn't want them to be like him _if _he's violent or something. But who knows.

_Tick... tick..._

Not only the game sounded in the correct beat, but the clock assisted the beeping sound, playing in symphony. The long hand of the clock turned as Kiku's hand madly danced, pressing the buttons rapidly in the midst of the battling sprite of the game. After a brief while, he sighed. He had just beat the boss. Which means, beating the game. He saved the game, recalling that he had beaten three hundred fifty-nine games. This one was added to that number as it formed a nice, round three hundred and sixty. Glancing at the clock, he found out it was exactly five minutes.

It was three o'clock.

He smiled and he was about to to raise his fingers from the miniature platform, but it was stuck there. He couldn't move it away from the gaming console, and he panicked. What's more, it started to dance again, pressing the buttons, continuing the finished game and he—he couldn't stop.

"What's happening?" He stared his fingers in utter shock, as the RPG game started to go berserk on itself. "I can't stop!"

_Error..._

_Data-bzzzzzt overload..._

_S-bzzzzzzt-system getting rid of un-bzzzzt-nknown illegal viru-zzzzzzzzt-s..._

He couldn't stop staring at the screen either. His eyes began to burn fiercely, and it really shocked Kiku, because it had never happened to him before. It severed, hurt, ached... and it started to spill liquids around his face.

"A-ah!" He yelped as he saw the liquid fell onto the bluish-green beeping screen. But he didn't yelp because he's afraid that it would damage the console.

He yelped when he realized the liquid was red.

_Blood?_

"What's happening? S-stop!" He was completely bewildered. At the second touch of the blood onto the screen, it beeps uncontrollably, and a light, a seizure-causing white light, came emerging from it. The blanket got flown away, and the game console was crushed. He flapped his eye lashes for a couple of seconds, and what stood before him had caused more questions upon his highly intelligent brain. A woman appeared in a white, flowing, ominous cloak, face completely hidden.

"Excuse me, lady, who are you?" Kiku tried to be polite, and he wiped the blood off his face. He could feel—_feel_, not see—the woman smiling, evil radiating from her very being.

"Same question, as before. And I give the same answer. It's none of your business."

Kiku's eyes gone wide as the woman drew a blade—small, but dead scary. He backed off to the corner of his bed, and, his room, as the lady came closer.

"Wha-what are you doing, lady? S-stop!" he stuttered as the woman pinned him. She drew the blade onto his neck. That shut him up.

"I want you to follow me." She whispered. It was freezing, the sound, like the soft winter gusts in the middle of a blizzard.

"Wh-where?"

"Be my companion," she answered. "And I want you to murder... your smug, big brother."

"N-nii-san?" He blurted out. "But—"

"Oh, don't you just wanna _kill _him," she started pressing the blade onto his neck. "He had always been a pain to you. Taking your pleasure away, ordering you around, you know, how first children act around their younger siblings."

His eyes widened even more.

Yao did that all the time. He always acted smug towards his siblings, especially to him. Do this, do that, don't, NEVER... That always came out of that Chinese's mouth. Even once Yao and him fought and beat the crap out of each other because of some stupid reason Kiku forgot, until their younger siblings started to cry and tried to stop them. He felt a black grudge burning inside his heart.

...No.

_Shake it away, Kiku_, He slapped himself mentally. _He's your brother. _

His attention turned to the woman again. He smiled, he knew one way to get off from her. He had been holding it as a secret.

The secret that only he knew.

The secret made every night when he was awake.

_He's the third child, smartest and most cunning._

"I'm sorry, lady," he apologized without any sorry. "I can't believe I'm actually saying the word he likes to say... but my response would be, 'no'."

He pressed a button underneath his bed. The woman didn't expect this; totally in awe at his foresight. The Japanese slid down a hole opened by the button, but when she tried to grab him, the hole closed. She let out a growl of anger.

But Kiku wouldn't have to hear it. He slid down the hole, until he reached a basement. His own basement. It was his idea to make it, because he knew that someday, a stranger might get his way towards the house, or, his room. He prepared this for it. He could hear a lot of thrashing up in his bedroom, probably the woman fighting the traps he also made in case something happened. It was a little bit scary, how it wouldn't stop; but it eventually did. He smiled at his brilliance. The traps he prepared were the most deadliest, and if someone actually pushed and strived through, they would get killed.

_But no one shall run away._

He walked to the small couch he unknowingly stole from the living room, and slumped on it. The Asian family had a very big mansion, so losing a furniture would hardly be noticed. There were tables, lamps, chairs, a bookshelf, a small fridge, even his manga collection was stored there. Most of them were yaoi, though. That's why he hid them all here.

He was calming himself down, grabbing a tissue and wiped the blood on his neck and placed a herb he took from the first aid onto the wound. He noticed that his eyes were still bleeding—literally—and thought of wrapping it with a bandage.

When he was about to reach it, someone covered his mouth and pulled him backwards. Kiku yelled, but it couldn't be heard. The sound was stifled by the hand.

Kiku can hear a whisper.

"_I'm sorry, Kiku."_

_He almost got out from my grasp._

The woman appeared in front of him again, sliding down from his bedroom. The sight was horrifying; she had a broken neck, an arm orientated not the way it was supposed to, even one of her hand was amputated... she had survived all Kiku's traps. She smiled, satisfied on how...the person managed to get Kiku. Kiku tried to look at the kidnapper. It was... it was his own friend, Elizaveta. He was genuinely shocked by this.

"I finally got my hands onto you..." She smiled again, a smile he hated very much. She put her hands onto his forehead. Kiku shook his head, and the woman drew her hand back. "So, tell me you changed your mind."

He shook his head again.

"Well," She said. "You'll die."

He didn't want his brother to die in such young age. He didn't want to die in the age of twelve too. He didn't have the choice he wanted. He hated this.

He knew Elizaveta hated this too. Explanation can wait—he can already feel Eliza's red tears dripping on his shoulder. He glared spitefully to the woman.

He finally surrendered himself to her.

"Good. Let's go."

A second later, they were transported by a strong wind, into another place.

A black cave.

He ran his eyes around the cave, observing. Something caught his eyes.

"Gilbert-san? What happened?"

Gilbert was already awake. He smiled bitterly. "A lot."

He ran to him, Elizaveta watching in the back, hand held forcefully by the woman. Both of the woman was once again teleported by the wind. They were gone in the matter of seconds.

Kiku was muted. Desperate to check his watch, he glanced at it.

It was broken. But it was moving.

In fact, the second-hand had just passed through four o'clock.

* * *

_~Prey Caught: 3/12_

_~Eyes Taken: 0/12 pair

* * *

  
_

**~TBC~**_  
_


	5. Clock Strikes Four

**~Clock Strikes Four~**

"So Gilbert-san, would you kindly tell me what happened?"

The voice was calm and collected, and no one can imagine a softer voice in situation like this. The two voices earlier were replaced by two new ones, both males. The soft voice stopped, waiting for the second voice to answer.

"I don't know, Kiku. She just... randomly appeared. And then my eyes started to bleed like... Hey... you're bleeding too."

Kiku touched his eyes. He was shocked a little bit; the bleeding hadn't stopped since it started. He can see Gilbert's hadn't stop bleeding yet either; eyes now fully red, not only his irises. He attempted to wipe the blood away but the more came emerging from his eyes, still fresh. He finally gave up trying to get rid of it after trying several times.

"Chirp, chirp~"

Gilbert jolted. A new voice had completed a trio. He looked around to see where did it come from, and spotted a small, little round bird floating by. He caught it in his hands.

"Aww, hello little bird. Are you lost? Aww, you're so cute." Gilbert cooed. Kiku laughed a little, and petted the little yellow thing. But it started chirping madly.

"CHIRP! Chirp, chirp chirp chirp~!"

_Dammit! Don't treat me like that, idiots!_

"Okay, what was that?" Gilbert looked around, confused. Someone had just spoke.

"Gilbert-san? What's wrong?" Kiku didn't look confused at all, and he stared at him like he's some kind of weird person. Gilbert eyed the entire room, searching if there was another person hiding.

_No one._

Gilbert raised his shoulders. "Oh well. It's maybe my imagination. Maybe the woman did this."

"CHIRP!"

_No! I'm real!_

Gilbert was shocked, and he looked at Kiku again. He still didn't hear anything. Then he looked at the bird. It chirped again.

"Chirp, chirp chirp, chirp."

_It's me, the bird. I am the woman's brother, and I can help you._

Gilbert raised one of his eyebrows, and stared at the bird intently.

"This is so un-awesome for me to get an advise from a bird," he crossed his hands.

"Tell me everything."

* * *

It was a beautiful sunrise. The sky was a pure light blue pool with a ball of sun at the end of it. It emitted golden sunshine rays, and as it acted as the earth's flashlight, the sunflowers woke up from their flowery slumber, making the earth's surface yellower. They stretched their leaves as if yawning, the green of it acting as the colony of the primary color. A tall child placed himself in the middle of the sunflower field, sitting on a stone bench. It was Ivan Braginsky.

He left the bench and knelt. He petted a sunflower, smiling warmly. It was his birthday yesterday, but he forgot to go to the place where he wouldn't feel alone. The place he loved so much. The place where his heart would feel contented.

He didn't dare pick the sunflower from the earth. It'll hurt the flowers. He didn't want them to be hurt. He hated seeing sunflowers being hurt.

He didn't want them to suffer like he do.

He knew it was four o'clock. He was standing precisely in the middle of the field; which had a sundial in the middle. And his shadow pointed at the number four. The sundial, made by his elder sister, was a memorial for something—something very important to him.

It was a memorial of the day when thousands of people were having a riot nearby, and thousands of sunflowers were burnt down to ashes. It was six or so years ago; Ivan was standing beside the field, eyes glossy with tears. _People burnt down my friends_, he thought sadly. He could see the souls of the sunflowers flying skywards, how they screamed in the heat. _I'm sorry that I let them do that. Please don't stop being my friend. Please don't leave me._

After years of planting, to make him happy, his little sister grew the sunflowers back, and it seemed that they forgave Ivan. Ivan was full in joy that he valued the field so much.

A shrilly wind blew. Something ruined the shadow of the sundial; a woman suddenly appeared, dressed in white, large cloak. He kept calm, as if she didn't even confound him at all.

"Hello." He said. "What are you doing here, lady?"

She ignored the question. She looked around the sunflower field instead. "What a lovely sunflower field. Is this yours, sweetheart?"

"Why, yes." Ivan smiled. He was happy being called a sweetheart by a stranger.

Not like _those _people. People who had always stabbed his little heart. People who hated him, and he hated so much.

The woman made her way to the bench. She patted the space next to her, asking Ivan to come and sit beside her. Ivan nodded and sat by her.

"What are you doing this early?"

Ivan's smile darkened. "I was supposed to go here yesterday, but I forgot. It was my birthday, and I want to be where the sunflowers' smile warmed me." He said in a tone contrast to what the woman had just listened to. "They never leave me."

"Leave you?" The woman stroked his hair.

He gulped. "People... they hate me. They always leave me alone, they treated me as a failure, an unwanted little rubbish existing in this universe."

Suddenly the world turned black and he could see thousands of sunflowers transforming into people, standing before him. He could see the woman leaving him alone, and he could hear things he didn't want to hear.

"Go away!"

"Never come back!"

"You're a danger to us all!"

"You are a monster—"

"NO!" He cried. His breath hitched; he started to cry. "STOP IT! I'm not a monster!"

He was hallucinating.

"It's all right, dear, no one is going to hurt you." The woman's embrace was sweet. Ivan lifted his head. "If you come with me."

"Where?" the hallucination stopped. The world came back into reality. The sunflowers he loved so much returned.

"Don't you just _hate_ people?"

_Yes, very much_, Ivan nodded.

"The world is not fair. It's _never_ fair."

_I know._

"The world hates you. Don't you hate the world?"

_This is not the world. This is hell._

"Then I want to see how much you hated all of this."

She snapped her fingers, and a strong wind started to blow all over the sunflower field, erasing its sunny smile. Ivan held onto the woman tightly and whimpered. His eyes widened, basking in the realization. _She wants me to see how much I hated the world. She's going to make me see... See something I hate._

He was right. The sunflower field turned into a very dark void like earlier, and all he could see was black. Nothing assisted him; nothing accompanied him. Not even the sunflowers.

_D-does this mean that the sunflowers now... hate me?_

He cried. Blood emerged instead of tears. He didn't want to be alone.

But he wasn't.

Someone approached him. Suddenly a lot of people approached, flocking around, but keeping distance from him. They were all shaded by the dark—Ivan couldn't see any of their faces. They all looked the same. They all seemed so... _hateful_.

People started to shout. "You suckish little monster!"

"Pest!"

"I don't want him around! He's deadly dangerous!"

"Kill him! He's such a pain!"

"What have I done to you?" Ivan's eyes widened and more blood came gushing out. "I'm not a monster! I never killed anyone, so why would you people kill me?" He looked down, ashamed. At that time he spotted a water faucet below him. He picked it up.

The people were deaf. They came charging towards Ivan. Their stone heart was the one scaring him the most. But suddenly hatred filled him up with spite and grudge, and he held the water faucet beside him.

"I never meant to hurt anyone..." His voice was wispy. "This is for what they have done to the sunflowers..."

The people finally charged through him. Metals could be heard clashing, blood seemed to be splattering, screams started to be heard. For one versus so many people, that was surprising. The metal wouldn't stop sounding, and the screams seemed to be endless. It was a horrifying sight of bloodbath.

And in the end, only one person stood up straight, holding a bloodied water faucet, unscratched, unwounded, but covered with blood from top to bottom.

And his eyes opened wide once again.

"Wh... what have I... done...?" His lips quivered, his body shaking. He fell to his knees, holding up the blood on his hand. He was scared of it. "I... I don't want to do this!" But then he heard the woman clapped.

"Good. Good. Your hatred to this world is enough to _kill_ people." She beamed. Ivan got up shakily, and a second later, the real world returned, and his skin was untouched by any blood, white as snow, only his face was reddened.

But then he spotted someone beside the woman.

"E-elizaveta?" He stuttered. Had she been watching him killing a mass of people right before her eyes? Had she been watching him mutilating every single person that attempted to murder him?

_NO! I don't want her to leave me like that too!_ He thought. He could see Elizaveta's eyes full of red tears, shaking, clearly afraid of what she had saw. Ivan approached her.

"I-I'm sorry, Elizaveta..." he couldn't stop his tears either. "I'm sorry for making you watch me like this. I just can't—I just can't control myself for one minute there."

What came across Elizaveta's mind was _she's going to make us suffer like this_. She tried to hold back her frustration. She didn't want innocent kids to suffer like this.

"Let's go now." The woman said, and they felt the wind swirling around the three.

They were teleported to the same black cave.

And there, sat Gilbert and Kiku, the former's face panicked a little bit. He wasn't scared of Ivan, but the _woman. _Afraid that she would take the little yellow bird away from him. He hid the little creature inside his pocket.

"It seems that you two were up to something." the woman said, putting her other hand on her hips. Gilbert broke into sweat and Kiku watched her in anticipation, scared of what was going to happen. "I should have seperated you from the start."

She took Kiku's hand rashly, and he yelped. She took him away, Ivan still following her, and Elizaveta couldn't free her wrist from the woman's palm. Gilbert was left alone. He glared the woman from the back. "This is not awesome."

She put Kiku in a separate place, as well as Ivan. She returned to Gilbert, staring at him, as if she could penetrate his head with the stare of her eyeballs. His eyes bleed more as he crawled backwards.

"You seemed to be hiding something." it was his turn to have his wrist crushed by the woman. She took him to a room smaller than the cave. She dumped him there.

"Do not get into trouble." she commented, making her way through the door. Gilbert glared, thinking for the fact that he already got into one. The woman went out of the room, locking the door with a slight _clink_.

"Damn. Now we must work this out alone." He pulled the bird out of his pocket. The bird nodded. But then Gilbert smiled with pride. "It'll be awesome though, me being the one who would save everyone from her in the end."

The bird chirped. He did, because as a bird, he knew it was straightly five o'clock in the morning.

* * *

_~Prey Caught: 4/12_

_~Eyes Taken: 0/12 pair  


* * *

_

**~TBC~**

That's the first four chapters! Again, reminder: updates would be every four chapters.

And oh, bonus points for those who can guess who the woman is. I'll give you a clue; she's the personification of a creature in Hetalia, just like how Gilbird appeared in the prologue as a person and as the creature itself in chapter 4. Second, it is mentioned in the prologue, last paragraph. Read carefully the punishment of the woman. Lastly, she's not a female in the real Hetalia world.

Anyway, thank you for reading!

~MusicCrest


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